


this airy charm is for

by clarityhiding



Series: Team RedBird [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, New 52
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 03:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5524115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarityhiding/pseuds/clarityhiding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Traditionally," Pru says slowly, "Oracle <i>does</i> run her own team."</p>
            </blockquote>





	this airy charm is for

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during the end of _out of her sphere_ on through and past the end of _a spirit of persuasion, only_. Comic-wise, this means through the end/resolution of Death of the Family.
> 
> This doesn't have near as much exposition as I wanted, but it's already at least 10k more than it was supposed to be and there's only so many times I can write/rewrite a scene before I call it quits. Sorry/not sorry.
> 
> Unbeta'd—let me know if you see typos/grammar errors/etc.! I want to hear about any/all of my mistakes, no joke. Seriously. All of them. Please tell me.

When all this started (when she woke up in the wrong bed with a dead man after the whole world changed around her overnight), Prudence only ever intended to track down Red Robin and let him figure out the rest from there.

He was the smartest person she knew and the only one she trusted to tell her the truth about whatever was going on. For him to be just as ignorant of the _wrongness_ of the world just doesn't make sense. Red knows about damned near everything, suspects what he doesn't know, and even has plans in place for those things he's never even suspected, just simply theorized.

Finding Red was supposed to mean finding answers, guidance, everything. Because Pru is a follower, not a leader. (An assassin, not a heroine.) Red was always the one with the plans, the connections, the knowledge. He was the one whose convictions were so strong, so solid that he made everyone want to follow him.

Red Robin is not some idiot kid who posts stupid manifestos on the internet, pretending that makes him some kind of revolutionary and not just another social justice blogger.

So, really, when it comes down to it, Pru can't be held accountable for what happens next.

* * *

Careful snooping in the early days after leaving the League reveal that at least a few of the untraceable currency caches Red had shown her are where they should be, which is just as well, since Pru doesn't dare touch any of what she stashed away over the years. At the time she made them, she was sure that no one else knew about the accounts and go-bags she'd hidden across Eurasia, but now, after throwing in with Red, she knows better. The League of Assassins doesn't like to let people go, and if she wants to do this right (if she doesn't want to bring Ra's and his minions down on her and all the people who have somehow become important to her through Red), she has to be careful. Cautious.

She has to kill Prudence Wood.

Again.

(The first time Prudence died she was fourteen and the warehouse she'd been squatting in went up in flames along with a couple dozen ne'er-do-wells also in residence. The flames burned so hot that all the ashes intermingled and the authorities couldn't be certain of how many died, let alone who they'd all been. Someone saw Prudence Wood go in the night before, no one noticed her come out again, and suddenly Prudence was dead.

Z said it was useful to be dead already when you entered the League. Pru nodded along as he explained, rattling around with a bunch of empty accelerant containers in the backseat of someone's old sedan, sucking down the juice box Owens tossed her before getting behind the wheel and peeling the fuck out of there.

It was a good day.)

This time, she's more meticulous, making sure to leave behind a somewhat-identifiable corpse (and boy, does she have to go through a lot of crematoriums before finding a body that has even a remote chance of passing for her and then switching it out at just the right moment). The League never worries about DNA or dental records the way Red or one of his fellow Bats might, so it's a simple matter of dragging the body to a seedy Manchester hotel room and arranging things so that it looks like Jane Doe connected the wrong wires while putting the finishing touches to what would have been a neat little incendiary device. Enough evidence for law enforcement to deem it the accidental death of an unsavory person and for the League to cross off a second-rate assassin taking herself out during a revenge-plot gone wrong. Everything wrapped up nice and tidy with no serious collateral damage, just the way Red taught her.

* * *

> From: **Stephanie Brown** <s.brown@gusd.edu>  
> To: <help-desk@gothampublib.org>  
> Subject: Fwd: Gotham Public Library Item Now Available                     Jun 22
> 
> Hey, I think you guys got some wires crossed?? I just got the notice below, but I didn't request this thing? You should probably look into that before someone else complains about their request never showing up.
> 
> My card # is 3034201781152, if that helps any.
> 
> Stephanie Brown
> 
> \---------- Forwarded message ----------  
> From: <do-not-reply@gothamcopublib.org>  
> To: Stephanie Brown <s.brown@gusd.edu>  
> Subject: Gotham County Public Library Item Now Available                 Jun 21
> 
> Tuesday, June 21, 2011
> 
> Gotham Public Library user,
> 
> The following item you placed on hold is now available. You can pick it up at the library listed below.
>
>> Quiz Bowl, Vol 1 Disc 1
>> 
>> DVD
>> 
>> 7/5/2011
> 
>   
> It will be held for two weeks, until the date listed above.
> 
> Lewis E. Grieve Memorial Library
> 
> You can check your account by visiting our website at http://www.gothamcopublib.org/
> 
> Thank you!

  


* * *

Once she finds him (once Todd tells her where he is), Pru plants her bugs in Red's New York penthouse—even builds in a little hidey-hole between the walls during one of the numerous times the flat has to be rebuilt (this wouldn't keep happening if Red was a bit more careful, but it's Red, so). Not that she intends to make her home there—Pru knows better than to stay so close on a permanent basis. Red is still Red, even when everything is wrong, and Bat paranoia isn't something Pru takes lightly.

Instead, Pru acquires a very nice blonde wig, some excellent fake documents, and a second-story walk-up in Metropolis. She figures it to be the perfect balance of near and far—near enough to keep an eye on Red and the rest of his crazy family, far enough away from the Batman that she can sleep at night.

Next, she enrolls in classes at MetroU, because most middle class eighteen-to-twenty-somethings in America are enrolled at some sort of institution of higher learning, and the last thing Pru needs is to attract attention by being an aberration. (She's laughing up her sleeve the entire time she signs up for classes, because she's never worried about the kind of education you get in a classroom, never imagined she'd bother with uni, and when it comes down to it she only has a formal education through second form.) It's also somewhat essential to Pru's long-term plans that her civilian ID be a student.

Once she's settled, it's a simple matter for Pru to pop on over to New York City every now and then. Partly to check on Red with her own eyes, but mostly to replace bugs and reinforce digital backdoors, particularly once she tracks down some help for the e-side of things. Todd's passwords and programs can only get her so far, after all, and Pru knows it's only a matter of time before Red cracks and counteracts her current feeble attempts. Tidbits of information and cryptic remarks will only distract him from his goal for so long.

Pru's still working off old intel—intel that it _should_ be good, that _should_ be up to date and genuine, but with everything gone sideways, she isn't entirely sure who she can depend on now. (Depend on, not trust, because there's still only one person in the world Pru honest-to-god trusts, and even Red has his head halfway up his ass right now.) In the end she crosses her fingers and hopes that if they were good enough for Red before, they should be good enough for her now. 

(And besides, now is as good a time as any to start rebuilding Red's team. Granted, he never _acknowledged_ it as an actual team before—and she supposes that the track Red is currently on has him reforming the Teen Titans sooner rather than later—but the team Red put Pru on, the one he let her be a part of. That one was important, too. Is important. Will be important. She just has to make it. Bring it back. One of those.)

Considering that he's supposed to be some sort of genius techno-guru, Lonnie Machin is disgustingly easy to track down. Far easier to find than Red, certainly. But then, Lonnie thinks he's careful enough, small-time enough that he doesn't have any reason to worry or hide (not yet, not anymore; everything's different).

Much as she'd like this to happen face-to-face, there's no way Pru's going to compromise the sweet civilian ID she has by letting Lonnie meet her. Things might be different when Pru's further along, when she's tracked down some of the others, maybe. They certainly aren't there, yet. Plans upon plans upon plans, almost like Red.

(Pru understands Red's reasons for a secret identity, now. Before, she had the protection of Red and the vague permission of Ra's to do what she was doing. Now, it's really just her, and Prudence Wood may be dead, but still. You don't just _leave_ the League of Assassins.)

The electronic shortcuts Pru has are tailored to Red's machines, won't be enough to crack through Lonnie's defenses. But if she has a direct line in, it should work. She just has to be willing to run the risk of a Gotham operation. (Run the risk of crossing paths with the Batman.) So. Should be a walk in the park.

Right?

* * *

Her hands are shaking badly and sweat drips down Pru's forehead as she eases in through Lonnie's window, jacks the cable into the back of his machine (and thank fuck Lonnie is enough of a geek to have a desktop with a tangle of cables at the back, not a sleek little laptop). She hasn't been this nervous since she left the Cradle, it's not good that she is. She has to be calm for this. Calm, collected. It's important that she sounds confident and sure, like she knows what she's doing. (She doesn't. She doesn't know, hasn't known what the bloody hell she's doing ever since she woke up on the wrong side of the planet with Owens and Z still alive and Red not knowing who she is and—)

Deep breaths. Deep, calming breaths. Go back out the window, leave it open just a crack for the line to pass through, clamber on up to her hidey-hole on the roof. She's already made sure all the city's Bats are busy elsewhere tonight, so the roof should be safe.

_Will_ be safe. Have to stay positive, stay confident. Can almost hear Red telling her that confidence is everything when you're in over your head. She's not there yet, but. Bats. (Deep breaths.)

Pru hooks up her laptop, settles in, and. 

Waits.

* * *

> `Hi.`
> 
> `Moneyspider: how`
> 
> `Moneyspider: who is this??`
> 
> `Moneyspider: harper?? batman?!!!`
> 
> `Not the Bat. But I am a friend.`
> 
> `Moneyspider: like fuck you are. do you have any idea who youre messing with?`
> 
> `Lonnie Machin, age 14, son of Greta and`
> 
> `Moneyspider: ok ok`
> 
> `Moneyspider: shit`
> 
> `Moneyspider: what do you want???`
> 
> `I have an offer for you.`
> 
> `Moneyspider: look that thing for matches was a 1 time thing im totally straight now`
> 
> `Moneyspider: ok ok maybe a 2 time thing but i really have gone straight i swear`
> 
> `Nothing like that. How would you like to help people?`
> 
> `Moneyspider: uh hello you know what i do right`
> 
> `Moneyspider: the moneyspiders all about helping the people who cant help themselves`
> 
> `Yeah, Lonnie. I know. This isn't all that different. Have you heard of Red Robin?`

  


* * *

It's the start (restart) of a beautiful friendship, Pru's sure. Now she just has to teach Lonnie the joys of punctuation and the shift key and everything will be golden.

And maybe get him to change his handle.

( _Spiders._ )

* * *

> From: <spoileralert@kmail.com>  
> To: <outlooknotsogood@kmail.com>  
> Subject: Re: Think of it as the first of many friendship waffles                 Aug 9
> 
> Haha, nice try but I'm not going to open random files sent to me by strangers. ESPECIALLY strangers who seem to think they know me -- talk about creepy! Why the hell did you send me something about some old-school loser D-list criminal? 
> 
> -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
> 
> Spoiler Alert!   
>  spoileralert.gothamvoices.com | spoileralert.fumblr.com   
>  The latest Gotham gossip!
> 
> > On Aug 8, 2011 at 11:08 PM, <outlooknotsogood@kmail.com> wrote:  
> >  
> > Stephanie,  
> >  
> > Please read the attached. It may save your life someday.  
> >  
> > <Vale-Cluemaster.pdf>

  


* * *

With Lonnie on board, Pru can relax and take her time with things, no longer racing against the clock to keep one step ahead of Red when it comes to keeping her access to his computers. Red is good (alright, _very_ good), but he spreads himself thin and can't be everywhere at once. And, well. He's not as good as he used to be.

(It worries Pru that Red isn't as good as she remembers him being. She keeps trying to ascribe apparent skill discrepancies to nostalgia, to wanting to believe that everything was better before, but in her heart she knows it's not that. Before, Red was thorough, calculating, brilliant, and, well. Complete. Now he keeps falling short of the mark, missing things he shouldn't, letting her get away with stuff he never would have in the past. He's. Well. An idiot kid who clearly hasn't spent as much time around Batman as he should have.)

Lonnie seems a little nervous about Oracle's insistence that the first order of business is to set up an untraceable backdoor into Red Robin's systems, and it takes a fair amount of fast-talking doublespeak on Pru's part to avoid explaining why she needs to snoop on Red when she's working with him. (Lonnie is young enough, naïve enough that he doesn't understand about idiot heroes who can't be trusted to not sacrifice themselves at the drop of a hat.)

Next up is acquiring the rest of the team. Conveniently, there's only one more member.

Truth be told, Pru has been waffling back and forth on whether she actually needs this particular person. It really feels like she'd do better to get a jump on bringing Red up to speed, getting his feet on the path that will lead him back to where he was before. But. Reforming the original core team is part of that. Plus, it's... symbolic. Red likes symbolism.

And anyway, when you're dealing with a Bat, it doesn't hurt to have a Fox on your side.

* * *

There are multiple ways Pru could approach this. On the one hand, Tamara Fox is a lot easier to access than any number of other people Pru has to befriend for the sake of her plans. Fox hasn't dropped off the grid and she's already on the cusp of at least one major life decision. Not-so-subtle manipulations on Pru's part—with a little help from Lonnie—ensures Fox picks the option Pru favors on the last of those, which is good, because there is no bloody way that Pru will allow _both_ of her cohorts to stay in Gotham.

On the other hand, Fox has never skirted the law and is unlikely to start anytime soon without a _very_ good reason. Also, Fox is nowhere near as gullible and trusting as Lonnie. Which is. Problematic.

(Good because, as Pru watches Fox, observes her approach and tackle problems, interact with people, she thinks she's starting to see why Red kept her around. Not so good because it means Fox isn't likely to be satisfied with hand-waving and half-truths the way Lonnie was.)

Pru does a little work here, a little work there. Lines her targets up in a row so that when she decides what course to take, it will (hopefully) only take one shot, straight on through. She schemes and plots, posts to message boards in between doling out carefully-portioned dollops of information to Red.

Eventually, Pru knows she can't put it off any longer. Things with Red and his queries into future Teen Titans (Pru refuses to think of them as anything else—history has a way of repeating itself, even when it's never happened in the first place) look ready to pick up speed in the near future, and Fox's own plans basically mean that Pru's got a case of now or never. 

So. It's time to set things in motion.

* * *

Fox wants to meet in a public space, and Pru agrees because she's starting to grow fond of the tricky suspicion that lurks under Fox's veneer of sweetness. Pru chooses the location, a café just down the street from her Metropolis flat; she already frequents it and knows it's clean, so there'll be no need to tip her hand too soon by sweeping the place for bugs when Fox might see her.

Pru drops into the empty seat across from Fox, charming smile already firmly affixed to her face. "Tam, right? You look just like your Facebook photo. Hi, I'm Connie—I'm so excited to finally meet you, though I've got to admit—we've been chatting online so much that I feel like we've known each other for years." Constance "Connie" Abernathy is a communications major at Metropolis U and has been posting to a uni message board for incoming freshmen for about a month and a half now. Her bubbly personality has gained her several e-friends there, Tamara Fox among them. This current meeting is, ostensibly, to see if they're compatible enough to room together come fall.

(Connie is pretty and blonde, very preppy and not at all punk, with no tats and her piercings limited to the standard one in each ear. She's a bit of ditz, but she also speaks three languages and really wants to do everything she can to make the world a better place. Pru is still new to this, but she's watched Red and she thinks she understands how to build a person from scratch, how to make an identity that no one would ever dream to connect back to the one in the mask.)

"Hi, it's wonderful to finally have a face to put to the name." Fox leans forward and squeezes Pru's hand in greeting. She looks a little different from how Pru remembers—curly hair instead of straightened, a more casual sense of style. All things that can be put down to Fox being a few years younger than when Pru last saw her. (A lot of people seem to be younger than Pru remembers, herself among them. Possibly. She's not sure about that one—she and Z destroyed all official record of Prudence Wood not long after her "death," so it makes tracking down a date of birth a little difficult.) "I've never met someone without a MyFace page before—even my dad has one," Fox adds, all pretend innocence, like she's not plumbing for information about "Connie."

"Oh, but your dad is kind of a big deal, isn't he?" Because Tamara Fox _has_ friended Lucius Fox on MyFace, so it's not like only a trained detective could manage to suss out who her father is. And Metropolis is close enough to Gotham that anything connected to Wayne Enterprises is news, so it's safe to have Connie know that, too. "And mine's an absolute tosser, so I don't like putting my photo online if I can help it." Father, former employer, it's all the same in the long run. (Pru has spoken no lies.)

Fox winces. "Ouch, sorry. It's just—"

"You can never be too careful with people from the internet," Pru agrees. Smile smile smile and holy fuck, Pru feels like punching herself in the face. Connie is exactly the sort of person she can't stand, almost worse than Tim Wayne. Exactly the sort of person no one would ever think to connect back to Prudence Wood, teen runaway, let alone Pru, League assassin.

They chat for a while. A little about the coming school year, a lot about random, unimportant things. Tam Fox and Connie Abernathy share a lot of the same interests and life goals—not all the same, because Connie being too perfect a match would be worse than her sharing no commonalities at all—and Pru made sure to do her research before coming.

All of Pru's research and practice pay off, and it's not long before Fox feels comfortable enough for them abandon the café in favor of Connie's flat. Fox checks out the space, agrees that the location is ideal (close enough to campus and the shops for convenience, far enough from Metropolis's Wayne Enterprises building that Fox won't feel like her father is peering over her shoulder when he's in town on business).

By the time Fox leaves to head back to Gotham, she's agreed to move in on the first of the next month. Pru can't help her smug smile as she waves goodbye. Fox wasn't nearly as tricky as she'd feared, and now everything is falling into place.

* * *

> From: <spoileralert@kmail.com>  
> To: <hazytryagain@kmail.com>  
> Cc: <outlooknotsogood@kmail.com>  
> Subject: Re: Think of it as the first of many friendship waffles                 Sep 17
> 
> ...wait. Are you the one who put that weird game show on my library requests list? Wtf man, that shit was creepy!
> 
> -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
> 
> Spoiler Alert!   
>  spoileralert.gothamvoices.com | spoileralert.fumblr.com   
>  The latest Gotham gossip!
> 
> > On Sep 17, 2011 at 5:24 PM, <hazytryagain@kmail.com> wrote:  
> >  
> > Stephanie,  
> >  
> > It's just a PDF. Look, I'll include plain text files this time, too.  
> >  
> > Please. Your life may be in danger.  
> >  
> > <Vale-Cluemaster.txt>  
> > <Spacey-Cluemaster.pdf>  
> > <Spacey-Cluemaster.txt>

  


* * *

Tam Fox is _every bit_ as tricky as Pru feared.

They've been sharing the flat for nearly two weeks, learning their way around each other before the fall term starts, when Pru comes back from her morning jog to a very pissed and accusatory Tam. "Something wrong?" Pru asks carefully, grabbing the towel she left by the door and wiping the sweat from her face. She has to be careful as she does so—can't dislodge the wig, can't let her shirt ride up and display the tattoo that Connie would never dare get, can't be _too_ careful while doing something that should be relaxed and easy.

Tam gestures for her to hold out her hand and, curious, Pru does so. Six little bugs—all of those Pru had secreted about the flat, as well as those from both the hall and balcony—are dropped into Pru's palm. "Care to explain?" Tam asks. "I'm choosing to give you the benefit of the doubt here and assume you had the best of intentions until I hear otherwise, so please don't insult me by pretending you didn't know about them."

This is quite unexpected and Pru isn't quite sure how to proceed. She _knows_ she's good when it comes to wiring a space—Red _still_ hasn't found all the bugs she stashed about his penthouse, and he's at the point where he does a sweep every other day, trying to find her micro-speakers. Sure, Pru didn't bother taking nearly as much care when hiding them in her own home (she knows they're there, and they're mainly for her own peace of mind—simple motion-activated cameras that don't even have any sort of mic, meant to keep an eye out for unwanted visitors), but she's still a professional and it's. Well. It _irks_ Pru that Tam was able to find them all. "You have an issue with security cameras?"

"Please. Those aren't security cameras—too small, too sophisticated. No one uses high-end WayneTech for simple security," Tam says, rolling her eyes. And, yes, it probably it wasn't Pru's brightest idea to recycle some of the Bat bugs she pulled from Red's place. Sure, she had Lonnie work his magic and change the broadcast signal destination, but it was sloppy and lazy of her.

Tam sighs. "How much is he paying you to keep an eye on me?"

When it comes down to it, Red isn't paying Pru anything. He doesn't even know she exists (or, well—he doesn't know _Pru_ exists, at least), probably hasn't even figured out that she's been pulling cash from his scattered stashes, supplemented by the little Lonnie's skimmed from Red's accounts here and there. So it isn't, in the strictest sense, payment. "Honest-to-god, they're security cameras," Pru repeats. "No one is paying me anything."

"So you _don't_ work for my father?" Blatant skepticism practically drips from Tam's words.

Pru can't help it—she laughs. "Oh, god no. Why would you think that?"

"Well. WayneTech." Which, yes, Pru will give her. It is a somewhat-logical conclusion. "But if my dad didn't hire you to be my babysitter-slash-protector, why do you have this?" Tam asks, picking something up from the table beside her and crap, it's one of Pru's swords. Apparently the bugs weren't the only things Tam found while poking her nose into places it doesn't belong.

"Decoration?" Pru tries, though she knows it's a lost cause, now. Hell, just as well she hasn't made herself a costume or anything (costumes are for idiots and Red, who, granted, makes it look awfully good), because at this point she's sure Tam would have found that, too.

"You display decorative swords, you don't keep them stashed away in the back of your closet ," Tam says flatly. "And you _don't_ keep them sharp enough to split a hair."  
"No," Pru agrees, because Connie is also not the type to ever own anything more dangerous than pepper spray. "I suppose not." She sighs. This is all coming out a lot sooner than she ever intended. No doubt it's what she gets for thinking she could manage Tam Fox as easily as she did Lonnie.  
"Well?"

There's not much Pru can say in her defense, so she decides to pull a Red and go with a truth.

"I used to be a ninja."

( _Technically_ , Pru was never a ninja, that was all Z. But Pru spent several years tagging along after Z when she first joined the League, and she picked up quite a bit.

Plus there was that whole period where Pru was supposedly tasked with babysitting Talia al Ghul's kid. Because apparently if you have a teenage girl handy, she's the most logical choice to look after your demon hellspawn? At the time, Z told her to view it as good practice at tracking and neutralizing a particularly slippery target. Little kids, Z had explained, had the attention spans of gnats and could give you the slip without even trying.

It wasn't until years later that Pru learned the kid had been told he was _supposed_ to evade her, and if he couldn't evade, he should aim his attacks to kill. Fucking assassins and their bloody mind games. There are many reasons why Pru is glad to be free of the League, but the creepy demon child is definitely in the top five.)

Tam is clearly not impressed by the news that "Connie" is a former ninja. Pru doesn't want to get into the details regarding the League (there are people who would want Pru dead if they ever realized she's still around), so she's not sure what she can do to impress on Tam the seriousness of the situation. Something tells Pru that the long-standing assassin tradition of nose-breaking (she's never been sure of how serious Owens was about that, but) isn't going to work here.

As it is, Tam is more concerned with things other than Pru's credentials. "Who _do_ you work for?"

And that. That is a very good question, when it comes down to it. Pru _used_ to work for the League of Assassins. Before that (before the world took one step to the right and suffered an identity crisis) she thinks she may have technically still been on the League's payroll, but in her mind she hadn't been a part of the League for nearly a year. She's not entirely sure if Red (the _real_ Red, not this pansy-assed Red-Lite she's stuck with now) ever actually understood that she'd changed agencies. If he was actively letting her access the ridiculously-detailed dossiers in his system or was just choosing to turn a blind eye to her activities.

Hell, when it comes down to it, the only thing Pru can be sure of with that entire arrangement is that Red forced her to watch a fuckload of _Star Trek_ with him via Skype. (It wasn't so bad. The Klingons had some wicked—if completely impractical—blades. And Pru can get behind pretty much anything as long as the explosions are big enough.)

"I suppose you could call me a free agent?" Pru says slowly, because the last thing she needs on her hands is an impatient Tam. Pru wishes she'd thought this whole thing through better. Wishes she'd decided whether or not to connect Connie to Oracle, whether Tam could even handle knowing about Oracle. Tam isn't like Lonnie, hasn't ever even strayed close to the grey line of legality. "At the moment. I mean, I may have a vague association with Batman, Inc., but that's pretty tenuous. It's more a case of mutual interests."

Tam's eyes narrow. "So my dad _did_ hire you."

Which. Okay, Pru is fairly sure that Wayne is still publicly connected to and funding Batman, Inc.—she tries not to dig too deep into anything Bat-related since she isn't sure what's likely to send up flags and grab the attention of either Ra's al Ghul or the Batman. So. She supposes it's a somewhat-logical leap for Tam to make (Batman to Wayne, Wayne to Lucius Fox). Also, completely wrong. " _No_. This has nothing to do with your dad. Well, okay, it does. Peripherally. Only not, because reasons. And it's not like B.I. even knows even knows I'm around."

Pru lets out a frustrated sigh. Backtracks slightly. "Yes, I did purposefully seek you out and set it up so you would be likely to move in with me. And I _could_ explain the reasons why, but you'd never believe them, so. Just. Look, let's say I consider you a high-risk person? It's not that I don't think you can look after yourself—because I know you can—but there are only so many super-assassins a person can handle on her own. Figure that watching your back is my way of doing community service."

Tam snorts and leans back against the wall, crossing one leg over the other. "Super-assassins. Right. Why don't you explain why you think I'm someone assassins might target instead of just assuming I'm not smart enough to understand? I mean, up until a few hours ago I thought you were a sweet but empty-headed future sorority girl. For all you know, I might prove to be just as surprising."

The thing is.

The thing is that Pru doesn't doubt Tam's ability to handle the truth. She just doubts Tam's ability to believe Pru is anything other than crazy. Whether she realizes it or not, Tam has the connections to make this all blow up in Pru's face if she so chooses.

Still. One of the key things Pru learned from Red was the importance—the _necessity_ —of trust. "You have to promise to hear me out to the end. No interruptions."

With a roll of her eyes, Tam gestures for her to go on. Prudence takes a deep, bracing breath.

"Well. When you and I first met, I'd had my throat cut less than twenty-four hours before," Pru starts, and goes from there.

* * *

Pru tells Tam about how the whole world's gone wrong and, incredibly, Tam believes her. Or, well. Doesn't dismiss "Connie" (since there are still some things Pru isn't ready to reveal, Pru's own identity and true past among them) right off as completely nutters.

Tam takes it so well that Pru doesn't even feel guilty a month later when she convinces the girl use her connections to... acquire some equipment from the Metropolis branch of WayneTech.

"It's important," Pru reassures Tam as she unpacks the goodies from Tam's purse—a couple dozen of the latest design of comm units, the same number of microtrackers. She'll have to see about getting all of this to Lonnie, have him reprogram and rewire—she needs backdoors and closed systems, things that will let Oracle in but won't let the Batman know what Red Robin and the Teen Titans are up to. Red seems determined to mostly steer clear of his ridiculous family, and Pru will do her damnedest to uphold his wishes. "Red Robin went offline for forty-five minutes yesterday. I don't know what happened during that time. I don't even know where he was beyond _possibly_ Arizona."

"He's, what? Only a year or two younger than us? Cut him some slack, Connie. You're just worried because he's been running around the country the last few days so you can't be a spooky, disembodied voice." Tam doesn't know what "Connie" is doing, beyond trolling Red Robin to hell and back with what Pru remembers from before. She doesn't know the identity of Red or any other Bat, doesn't even know who Lonnie is, beyond the fact that he's in Gotham. It's safer this way.

Pru shakes her head. "Red goes off the rails when he's left to his own devices for too long. Does stupid shit like making plans and not even trying to include exit strategies for himself. It can't hurt to keep an eye on where he is, what he's up to."

Tam rolls her eyes, but seems willing to drop the topic at that. "I still can't believe you got _kryptonite_ for him. Why does he need a radioactive chunk of a planet on the other side of the galaxy?"

"Ex-planet. Green kryptonite's the one thing that's pretty much guaranteed to take down a Kryptonian—one of the S-shield heroes, that is. Superboy, Superman, Supergirl—you get the picture." In all honesty, Kryptonians freak Pru the fuck out, but Superboy is (was?) very important to Red, so she figures she can't in good conscience direct him away from the kid.

"Wait. How does that even _work_? Aren't they from Krypton? Why would it hurt them?" Tam frowns, obviously confused by all this. Pru doesn't blame her; it's never made sense to her, either. "Also, the Supers are the good guys, aren't they? And there isn't any Superboy."

"I don't know why the kryptonite thing works—it's superhero science, it doesn't follow normal logic," Pru explains patiently. "You never know when a hero will go all dark-side, or get replaced by an evil clone, or be compromised by mind-control, or something. It's always a good idea to keep kryptonite on hand. Particularly since Superboy _will_ be a thing, and he or a version of him _will_ go evil at some point."

"How can you be sure of that? Just because he was around last time doesn't mean he will be this time."

"It has to do with multiversal redundancy," Pru tells her. "Red explained it to me once—if something happens or someone exists in one universe, it's very likely the same will hold true in another. Sure, there may be bloody huge differences—alignment changes, gender swaps, etcetera. But the same people show up over and over again, usually in the same roles, usually allying themselves with the same people. Add to that the fact that I'm fairly certain what happened was a timeline-shift rather than my hopping universes, and it works out as highly-probable that a lot of things will unfold the same way. Which means that somewhere out in that big wide world, there's a Superboy."

At least, Pru really hopes there is. Superboy was one of the essential things that made Red who he was, and she's pretty sure she needs Superboy in order to get Red back to that point, back to where he was, what he was.

Tam considers all this. Taps her chin in thought. Finally asks, "Is that why the apartment is done in a thick coat of lead-based paint?"

"It was like that when I moved in," Pru says. "And you wouldn't complain about it if you knew how big a perv Superboy is. Will be. Whatever." She deems it prudent to not mention that the paint was one of the deciding factors when she was looking for a place to live. According to Red, paranoia is a perfectly acceptable and healthy trait to possess as long as you don't let it rule your life.

* * *

> From: <spoileralert@kmail.com>  
> To: <signspointtoyes@kmail.com>  
> Cc: <hazytryagain@kmail.com>, <outlooknotsogood@kmail.com>  
> Subject: Re: Think of it as the first of many friendship waffles             Nov 29
> 
> Say I believe you about my dad being some lame-o costumed criminal once upon a time. What do you expect me to do about it? From everything I've found (yeah, thanks, did my own research, freakazoid, you're not the only one who can use the library), he just stole stuff, he didn't really hurt anyone. Plus, the way I see it, Dad kinda wanted to get caught with all those stupid clues. And, okay, say I *do* sorta remember Batman going after my dad, back in the day -- he didn't turn Dad over to the cops, so. Even Batman thinks the idiot deserved a second chance. Maybe you should just leave well enough alone. He's not the world's best dad, but he's mine, and he tries, most of the time.
> 
> Leave me alone already, creep.
> 
> -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
> 
> Spoiler Alert!   
>  spoileralert.gothamvoices.com | spoileralert.fumblr.com   
>  The latest Gotham gossip!
> 
> > On Nov 29, 2011 at 4:21 PM, <signspointtoyes@kmail.com> wrote:  
> >  
> > I believe people should have the information they need. It's  
> > sort of my thing. You have the evidence—what does it tell  
> > you?

  


* * *

Pru tucks the kryptonite into a lead case made to resemble an embarrassing personal object when viewed under X-ray, because she has to get her kicks somehow. She sends it to Red via FedEx partly to freak him out and keep him on his toes, but mostly because it's easy. And she really doesn't want to risk carrying kryptonite around Metropolis any longer than is absolutely necessary.

The microtrackers she secrets away in the various different Teen Titan insignia she had made up months ago, back when it was clear where Red was planning to go with all his research into metahuman teenagers. The trackers are inert and nigh-impossible to detect until activated; she's hoping Red will overcome his paranoia enough to feel a surge of team spirit and add at least one of the insignia plates to his costume. And when he inevitably protests her keeping tabs on him, he might be assuaged by the peace offering of a way to keep tabs on his cohorts. Red has to be one of the worst practitioners of "Do as I say, not as I do" that Pru has ever met.

She packs the tracker-laced insignia and most of the comms up together and leaves the box on Lonnie's bed with instructions to send it from the Gotham post office of his choice via USPS, making sure to include a reminder to wear gloves when handling the box, since it technically contains stolen goods. Bats will try to pull evidence from anything when they're ticked off enough.

With all that out of the way, Pru spends the next couple of weeks focusing on her classes. She doesn't know what she was thinking, enrolling herself at one of the top schools in the country for the sake of a cover. Sure, she can always have Lonnie hack her grades so she doesn't have to worry about passing, but she'd like to keep him ignorant of her civilian self for as long as possible. Plus, after spending the last several years meeting Ra's al Ghul's ridiculously high standards, it's not like the work is particularly _hard_ , just time-intensive.

Pru is lying across her bed, talking bullshit to Red about Kid Flash—who appeared on the scene briefly only to disappear into a N.O.W.H.E.R.E holding cell (it's just weird that Bart Allen has shown up as Kid Flash, skipping over the Impulse identity entirely, so Pru feels justified in her attempts to cultivate a moderate level of distrust in Red)—when Tam corners her.

"C'mon, loser," Tam announces, picking up Pru's laptop and holding it out of reach. "We're going shopping."

This is completely unacceptable behavior in someone who is (theoretically, at least) Pru's subordinate. (She'd use the word minion, except Tam knows where Pru sleeps at night and could probably convince Lonnie to bypass the electronic lock on Pru's bedroom door; it's ridiculous—Tam isn't even supposed to know Lonnie _exists_ , let alone be in communication with him.) Pru levels a glare at Tam. "While I realize my public character may imply otherwise, I do not have the least bit of interest in shopping."

"Yeah, well, you need something to wear on Saturday. And since I doubt your ninja-preparedness extends eveningwear, a-shopping we must go," Tam retorts. She's already using Pru's text-to-speech subprogram to make Oracle's excuses to Red, which is a _complete_ violation of Pru's privacy, identity, and general trolling rights. Clearly, Pru must have words with Tam about proper vigilante etiquette once she's sorted out what the hell Tam is talking about.

"What's happening on Saturday?" Pru can't keep the suspicion out of her voice, but then she's learned that it's pointless to even try. Everything Tam Fox does is suspicious. _Everything_.

Tam sighs. Rolls her eyes. "You totally forgot. My own fault, really—I knew I shouldn't have asked you when you were in the depths of paper-writing. Alas!"

" _Tamara—_ "

"Wayne Enterprises gala-thing. You agreed to be my plus-one months ago, there's no getting out of it now."

Well.

_Fuck._

* * *

The gala isn't nearly as awful as Pru expects it to be. She vetoed all dresses that might prove impractical in a fight and Tam let her get away with low little kitten heels. (Tam also threatened to spend their winter break teaching her how to move smoothly in the 3-inch monstrosities Tam picked for herself; Pru thinks January might be an excellent time for her to run up to New York City. To check on Red and his team, of course.) Much as she'd rather be anywhere else, Pru tries to tell herself that it's a low-risk situation and excellent practice at staying in character. Sure, the Batman is there, but as Wayne. And besides, one of the few advantages of the universe hiccuping is that no Batman has ever met Pru.

(Pru forgets that, for once, the Batman shouldn't be her main concern.)

Pru makes nice with Tam's parents and brother; looks for Tam's sister until she remembers that when the world shifted sideways and twisted in on itself, one of the things that got completely screwed up was the order and age of the Fox siblings. Tries to avoid ever being within fifty feet of any of the Wayne brood while not letting on to Tam what she's doing. (Secret identities are important.)

Theoretically, as long as Pru maintains the cushion of space between her and Wayne, she shouldn't have to worry about any Bats at all. Unless something happens (robbery, kidnapping, whatever) and additional masks crash the party to ostensibly save the day. Since Gotham society events are notoriously risky affairs, attracting criminals like moths to a flame, Pru is doing her best to try and stick close to Tam. Just in case.

What Pru doesn't plan on, couldn't have accounted for (really should have, since Tam has proven time and time again that she's an expert at complicating things), is that Tam is friends with Grayson. And since Pru's been so good about respecting the civilian IDs of Red and his family, Tam honestly doesn't see any problem with cornering Grayson to commiserate over their mutual misfortune at being forced to attend this ridiculous affair by their respective fathers.

"I want you to meet my roommate, Connie Abernathy." Tam tightens her grip on Pru's arm and tugs her closer when Pru tries to surreptitiously slip away. "Connie, this is Dick Grayson. He's had to come to these things nearly as long as I have."

"It only _seems_ that long," Grayson says with a laugh. Instead of shaking the hand Pru offers, he lifts and kisses the back of it. Hot damn, she knew Grayson was smooth out of the mask and tights, but Pru still wasn't expecting _this_. Her blush is completely involuntary, as is her giggle. She hopes she can pass off the latter as more flirtatious than nervous, but she's pretty sure it's a lost cause. This is bad—Pru just isn't a good enough actress to play Connie against Grayson the way she should.

Luckily, she doesn't have to do it for very long, since Tam's real motive for approaching Grayson becomes clear as soon as introductions are out of the way. "You owe me at least one dance, Dick," Tam says, taking his arm and tugging him towards the floor. "My sole reward for dolling myself up for this ridiculous thing," she explains to Pru.

And then she's gone, leaving Pru alone in a room full of people she couldn't care less about. This, Pru thinks, must be what having girl friends is like.

A noise from a shadowy alcove to her left nearly has Pru reaching for the one of the knives she isn't carrying (Tam made her leave them back in Metropolis on the grounds that they messed with the fall of the Pru's dress, insisting that the Batman would save them if anything happened). She stops herself before she does more than twitch her fingers, though. An improvement over a few months back, when she was jumping at every shadow, seeing spiders and assassins everywhere.

The noise repeats itself. A sound halfway between a grunt and a tut and Pru isn't going to look. She's not. It'll do her no good, and besides, the only time Connie is ever interested in shadowy alcoves is when she has a partner to enjoy them with.

Just when Pru's curiosity is about to get the better of her, something slams into the back of her calves, hard. It's only through sheer willpower that she's able to turn what would have been an ungainly sprawl into a somewhat-graceful slump, just barely missing a woman leaning over the dessert table. The woman side-eyes her and not-so-subtly inches away as Pru glances around, trying to spot what hit her.

When she finds it, it's worse than she could have possibly imagined.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Damian hisses, glaring fiercely at her. Unlike everyone else Pru's encountered since the world turned on its head, he's the same age as she remembers. He is, in fact, the same _everything_ that she remembers. Unfortunately.

Pru really, really wants to hurt the little brat. (She wants to hurt Tam for taking away Grayson, who's no doubt responsible for keeping the spawn of Satan out of trouble at this party. Wants to have _words_ with Red for having the gall to be related—no matter how convoluted, it still counts—to the nightmare of her youth.) There are a lot of things Pru wants to do at this moment, but she can't do any of them.

(Red better damned well appreciate the level of effort Pru is putting into her play-acting.)

Instead, she widens her eyes and blinks innocently at Damian. "Enjoying the party, until you knocked me down. Are you alright? Did you lose your mum?"

Damian narrows his eyes, and he's good, but she can see it in his stance—a little seed of doubt has been planted in his mind. Fuck, _yes_. (Pru remains calm, doesn't allow her exuberance to show. Talia's demon child is good, but—according to Red, at least—he's always been bloody awful at disguises. Pru's not great, only decent, but she soaked up as much as she could from the one Bat the little creep's never been willing to listen to; theoretically, he shouldn't even know what to look for.) "You... don't belong here," he says, striving for sureness, but this time the waver of uncertainty is definitely there.

"Well. That's debatable, really," Pru allows, bobbing her head in partial-agreement. "I mean, Tammy dragged me along as her plus-one, but I have _no clue_ what's going on? And now she's gone off with her friend, so I'm even more lost."

"You're here with the Fox girl." This time, it's almost a question, and really, this has to be a first for Pru. She's never kept Damian on his toes like this before, certainly never been in his presence for this long without him actively attacking her. (It belatedly occurs to Pru that he may have honestly never met her before, may only be vaguely familiar with her face from having seen it once at one of the League's bases. May not be basing his accusations on even that much information, may have just noticed the way she moves, the way she holds herself.)

(Since it makes her feel better, Pru is choosing to believe she's just that good, now.)

"Uh-huh. Tammy's my roommate. We're at MetroU together." She flashes him a slightly-chagrined smile. "That's why it's so awful that I don't know what's going on," she says, trying her damnedest to sound conspiratorial and playful at the same time. "I'm a communications major, but I'm horrible at keeping track of current events!"

This last bit appears to decide it for Damian, if the way his look of distrust morphs into one of disdain is anything to go by. He follows this up by offering her his hand, actually helping her to her feet when she takes it and not even trying to turn it into a throw. (Pru won't deny it—she's mildly creeped out by the whole thing.) Pru's about to volunteer to try and find Damian's mum for him (it's what you're supposed to do when you find an apparently-unattended child, isn't it?) when she's saved by the reappearance of Tam and Grayson.

A second round of introductions ensues and Pru manages to nearly make herself sick cooing over Grayson's "precious baby brother." Grayson, thankfully, feels the need to save said brother from the fawning of overly-sentimental females (or maybe he knows just how short the brat's fuse is and hopes to prevent some sort of incident), and claims duties elsewhere, dragging Damian away.

Pru waits a full thirty seconds before allowing herself to straighten out of Connie's ridiculous pose. "When we get back to the flat," she tells Tam conversationally, "you and I are going to have a long talk. It's come to my attention that there are certain things you need to know."

Screw Red and the sanctity of the secret identity—Pru is _never_ going through something like that again if she can help it.

* * *

Tam thinks the whole thing is laugh. The idea that babysitting was a part of Pru's ninja duties, the fact that Tam put Pru's identity on the line by dragging her to the stupid party, that tiny little Damian Wayne could possibly be a deadly threat to Pru's life. _Hilarious._

(Pru isn't laughing.)

She fixes Tam with a _look_. Narrows her eyes. "In the previous iteration of the universe," Pru says dryly, "you were engaged to Tim Drake at nineteen."

"I. _What?!_ "

Not strictly true, but. Well. Tam was asking for it.

* * *

> From: <withoutadoubt@kmail.com>  
> To: <spoileralert@kmail.com>  
> Subject: It's not purple, it's eggplant                                     Jan 6
> 
> Someone's been a busy girl. I like the costume, though you might want a hard mask that'll protect your nose. Just a thought.
> 
> Be careful.
> 
> Trust no one.

  


* * *

After the fiasco on New Year's, Pru is surprised she doesn't have to push harder to convince Red that going after Superboy is the right thing to do. As it is, Pru isn't entirely sure this is the _right_ Superboy—look at the craziness that happened after Superman died, back when Superboy originally popped up (before the world went sideways), after all—copycats and evil cyborgs, ahoy. And then there was that evil, extra-dimensional Superboy who first killed the original, then later scraped together a bunch of clones of the local Superboy (because apparently he had some issue with cloning himself?) to fight the Titans that one time. (Red had to do a raincheck on their _Fringe_ marathon because of it, which Pru is _sure_ has only hurt her in the long run—he probably would've imparted all kinds of alternate-universe-slash-timeline-related advice if they'd actually had a chance to watch it together.)

Not to mention the fact that this Superboy seems to be attached to N.O.W.H.E.R.E., not Cadmus, and there's nary a connection to Luthor in sight from what Red's already dug up. So. There's a good chance of this not being the Superboy Red needs. Unfortunately, he's the best Pru can find right now.

Really, when it comes down to it, the fact that the kryptonite still worked is amazing.

Since the Teen Titans are taking advantage of Danny the Street's pseudo-teleportation abilities, the trip from New York City to N.O.W.H.E.R.E.'s Arctic base isn't a long one, but Red stays in touch with Oracle as he makes his way there as much as he can with all his little Titan buddies following behind him. Pru tells herself they're good kids, that they'll have Red's back. That most probably all her taunting remarks about untrustworthy mirror-universe doubles are just that—taunts. No basis in reality.

Probably.

(Red was fine for years before Pru ever showed up, was mostly fine after except for his fucking sacrificial streak. She keeps telling herself all this, but the truth of the matter is that all that was a different Red Robin, a different Tim Drake. This one hasn't got the training or the experience to measure up and isn't likely to live long enough to gain either if he keeps acting like a goddamned _idiot_.)

She tells herself he's in good hands, that he's doing important work (important to his mental health, to keeping him grounded and human and a broody Bat). Everything is peachy-keen and good.

Then all forms of communication Pru has with Red drop out as soon as he steps off of Danny's other-dimensional cobblestones and into the heart of N.O.W.H.E.R.E. He's not on the comm and the computer built into his suit isn't responding. Pru can't even get a ping off her super-secret tracker when she tries to activate it, and that thing is supposed to be good for as far away as Earth's outer atmosphere.

When Pru breaks a mug from gripping it too hard, Tam takes her aside. "What's wrong, ninja girl?"

"The Titans went on a field trip, and Red dropped out of contact almost as soon as they left."

"This the thing with Superboy?" Tam thinks Pru's insistence on the essential necessity of Superboy to Red's development is hilarious and likes to tease Pru about it. (Still, it's a rare day indeed that Tam turns down a chance to watch Superboy surveillance for Pru. At least the girl has _some_ of her priorities straight.) "They'll be fine—Wonder Girl is kick-ass and Kid Flash can run circles around pretty much anything. Relax."

"I know. Just. They haven't really practiced together as a team. This isn't like before—last time they started off small. Little missions, picked and approved by the Justice League. This is different." Pru clenches her teeth and glares down at her laptop. Still no activity.

"If you're that worried, you could always go there and help them out."

Because of course Tam would think that that's an actual, viable option. "Okay, no. First of all, I have no transport. Second, I can't do anything to draw attention to myself." Pru still hasn't really explained this to Tam, maybe now is the time for that. "There... is a good chance there's a bounty on my head. Or, at least, there would be one if certain people knew I'm still alive."

Tam sets down the knife she's been using to chop carrots and slowly turns, giving Pru her full attention. "Connie. Are you on the run from the law?"

"What? _No._ Just, you know. Something much worse. Look, I _told_ you I used to be a ninja."

"I thought you were joking. Or you meant, like, espionage."

"Eh. More like wetwork? But close enough." The look Tam gives Pru at this particular piece of information is one of utter horror. "What?" Pru says defensively. "I don't do it _anymore_. Red and all his little Batty friends have a strict no-kill policy." Well, except for Todd, but that's understandable—the guy has a lot of anger to work off; Pru respects that. "Anyway, it's better for me to stay out of the field, _particularly_ when it's something directly linked to any Bats. Don't want to draw any unwanted attention."

"Well, you can't send me. It's one thing to lift a handful of odds and ends from WayneTech. It's another thing entirely to go halfway across the globe and jump into a hot meta mess," Tam says firmly, turning back to her carrots. "I haven't got anywhere near enough training, yet."

"Obviously." Pru rolls her eyes. Though. Actually. That reminds Pru. "Traditionally," she says slowly, "Oracle _does_ run her own team."

After all, Red isn't the only cape Pru's been keeping tabs on.

* * *

Tam says she’s taking unnecessary risks (“You can’t go haring off to Gotham just because Red Robin and his team are missing, Connie! What am I going to tell him when he comes back if you get yourself killed? ‘Sorry, there’s been a change in management and I don’t know any of the stuff the old Oracle knew, but you can still totally trust me’? Oh, like that’ll really fly.”), but Pru’s choosing to ignore her warnings. This was always going to happen, after all. Sure, she’s stepping up the time table a little (she’s antsy and anxious, needs something to keep herself distracted from Red being MIA), but it’s something she’s been planning for months. And classes don’t start up again for another week, so it’s excellent timing, really.

New masks in Gotham always throw up warning flags with the Bats, so Pru’s running a risk wearing one, but. But it’s the suburbs, not really Gotham-proper, and this isn’t like that time with Lonnie. (Sure, Pru could pull the same trick she did with him, but Pru feels she owes it to the girl to make a real effort. There was that whole thing of theoretically meaning to kill her that one time, after all. Plus, Pru’s technically stolen her name. One of her names. Sort of.) And it’s not like it’s a real mask (well, it is, but), it’s technically just something she picked up at a costume store, painted to suit her purposes, and added a voice-scrambler to. Swap out Connie’s blond wig for a black one, add a bunch of dark grey clothing, and Pru almost looks like a real vigilante.

Pru watches the girl suit up and sneak out her bedroom window. Follows her until they’re far enough from the girl’s home that Pru doesn’t have to worry about being overheard (she doesn’t think they have any reason to worry on that front, but Pru herself is living proof that you never know who might be listening).

The girl’s alright—skilled, but untrained. Can pull off some of the flippy bullshit that Grayson favors (Red, too, now, though Pru tries not to think about that), but she doesn’t check to make sure she isn’t being followed, and most of what she can do is clearly some misbegotten child of gymnastics and parkour.

Pru uses a line and intercepts her mid-leap, grabbing her around the middle and yanking her sideways and up to the roof of one of the taller buildings in a mini mart.

“What the fuck!”

“Spoiler. Calm down,” Pru says, thankful for the scrambler she had Tam “acquire” last week (Pru could try to disguise her accent, but she knows she’s balls at it). Lets Brown go and takes a quick step backwards, out of range of flying elbows and flailing kicks; this mask is nowhere near strong enough to prevent a broken nose. A lot of the Batgirl Pru remembers is there, if unpolished, and that’s. Reassuring.

“Who the fuck do you—” Brown demands, starting towards Pru before pausing. Thinking. Looking Pru over, eyes lingering on the dark mask, the bright blue triangle Pru painted in the middle of the forehead. “Oh. It’s you. Mysterious correspondent with the Magic 8 Ball fixation.”

The mask hides Pru’s smile from Brown, but it’s wide and relieved. Pru’s worried over the past few months that Brown wouldn’t be up to this when the time came, wouldn’t be ready. But the girl is just as sharp and quick on the uptake as Pru remembers her being and that’s important. It means Pru’s mad ideas may actually play out correctly. (It means there may yet be hope for the Red Robin Pru remembers.)

“Yes,” she says. “That’s me.” Leans back and holds her hands out at her sides, lets Brown—Spoiler, really, the girl’s earned the name in Pru’s mind—see that they’re empty, that Pru means no harm. “You found more than you expected when you did your own digging, didn’t you?”

Spoiler doesn’t deflate—she stays in a ready-stance, legs spread, fists up—but her shoulders droop noticeably. “Yeah. He hasn’t quit, just isn’t as flashy and loud anymore. He’s pretty careful, doesn’t leave a trail of clues like he used to, but. But it’s still wrong. He still shouldn’t do it.”

“And now you’re spoiling his plans.” The smile is creeping into Pru’s voice despite her best efforts. Red is still the only person Pru really trusts, but there’s something about Brown (Spoiler, Robin, Batgirl) that she’s always liked. (There’s something that reminds Pru of herself, but she carefully pushes that thought away.) It’s good to see that the girl still has the same moral code, the same sense of wrong and right. The same feeling of responsibility.

“Well, I figure. Batman’s already cut him loose, plus the Bat’s not so interested in small-time stuff. And my da—the Cluemaster. He’s pretty good at hiding his tracks from the cops, so.” Spoiler shrugs. “Someone needs to stop him. _You_ aren’t.”

The accusation isn’t one Pru’s expecting, but it’s not all that surprising, considering. “Not my scene. I do information, other people take that and do something with it.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

Pru takes a deep breath. Moment of truth, here. “Well. Right now I mainly work with Red Robin. But I’m looking to expand.”

* * *

> `Moneyspider: ff says youre finally getting some more peeps`
> 
> `Oracle: Bloody hell, I TOLD her not to talk to you.`
> 
> `Moneyspider: aww dont be like that flying fox is cool`
> 
> `Moneyspider: not all bitchy like you :-P`
> 
> `Oracle: She’s evil incarnate.`
> 
> `Moneyspider: she says you only say that about people you like`
> 
> `Moneyspider: example #1 red robin`
> 
> `Moneyspider: anyway are you really recruiting??`
> 
> `Oracle: Yeah. I need you to add another person to the network.`
> 
> `Moneyspider: ok ok cool but first look theres this girl i know right`
> 
> `Moneyspider: lives in my building real kickass`
> 
> `Oracle: I understand that you’re a teenage boy, but you don’t impress a girl by asking her to join a superhero team.`
> 
> `Moneyspider: oh fuck no i mean she is one terrifying gal ok but`
> 
> `Moneyspider: shes a whiz with computers almost as good as me`
> 
> `Moneyspider: even better with electronics she helped me with the comms and trackers`
> 
> `Oracle: FUCKING GODDAMMIT LONNIE`
> 
> `Oracle: What part of “don’t EVER talk about this with ANYONE” don’t you understand?!`
> 
> `Moneyspider: no no i didnt tell her what they were for said it was a school project `
> 
> `Moneyspider: totally stealth she didnt have a clue`
> 
> `Moneyspider: but shed be cool about it if she knew `
> 
> `Moneyspider: thats why i think you should bring her in`
> 
> `Moneyspider: she has like a major hardon for helping batman `
> 
> `Moneyspider: and red robins p much the same thing right??`

  


* * *

Red and his ragtag band make it back to New York City before Pru can get her butt in gear about training Spoiler to a point where she could be sent to save their sorry asses. Also, apparently, Flying Fox, since Tam has decided to embrace the vigilante lifestyle, what the fuck. Pru blames Tam’s association with Lonnie—this is why Pru didn’t want them to communicate, they only encourage each other’s bad habits.

Unfortunately, while the Teen Titans did accomplish their original mission of saving Superboy, they somehow managed to lose every single tracker and comm in all the chaos and confusion. Of course, that’s nothing in light of the fact that they also lost one of their own.

Pru... isn’t sure how she feels about that. 

As far as Pru knows, Skitter wasn’t a Teen Titan before the world got all twisted up, but. Historically, Red does not do well when he loses a teammate. Granted, his mental break (because that was what it was, near as Pru could tell, when she went back and studied both Red’s records and those of Ra’s al Ghul last year) following the deaths of Kid Flash and Superboy in the past may have been been exacerbated by the fact that they were some of his closest friends. And, of course, the death of his father and apparent death of Spoiler. And Batman. And then that weirdness with the Black Lanterns. (Sometimes, Pru thinks it’s better that the world isn’t what it used to be.) Plus, Pru isn’t entirely sure if Celine is, in fact, dead. Everyone’s avoiding the subject, and she doesn’t want to press Red about it and risk setting him off.

In the end, she decides the best thing to do is ignore Celine’s absence and continue on as she has been. From what Pru’s gathered from Red and the eavesdropping mics she has planted throughout the penthouse, taking on N.O.W.H.E.R.E. led to Red and the others battling all sorts of other teen heroes, some of whom sound awfully familiar. Shoving her musings on Red’s emotional well-being to the side, Pru starts files on potential future (past) Titans.

* * *

At some point, it occurs to Pru that with Red being gone so long defeating N.O.W.H.E.R.E. and playing with dinosaurs and what-not, she’s been somewhat derelict in her quest to remind Red of his roots and thus give him a good, hard shove in the correct direction.

Which would be why, the first night she has free after he’s back (bad weather’s keeping Spoiler inside and out of trouble, Lonnie’s got a big school project to finish so he’s not likely to bring the financial world to its knees if Pru looks elsewhere for a few hours, no school papers of her own to write), Pru waits until Red is alone in his penthouse room, then instructs her computer to run Directive 47.

Pru refrains from steepling her fingers and chuckling evilly when Red tries to override Directive 47 (impossible—not even Pru can stop it now; she had Lonnie hard-lock the code). Mostly because she suspects Tam of listening in on her sometimes and Pru honestly doesn’t need to feed Tam’s suspicions that “Connie” has supervillain aspirations.

_”Oracle? Is this you?”_

“Why do you assume it’s my fault every time you have a problem?” Pru figures it’s no fun to make it easy on Red. Plus, he’s been getting complacent lately anyway. “I mean, you keep letting me into your systems—clearly, your firewalls need some work. Could be someone else found their way in.”

_”Yes, but_ you’re _the most likely candidate to make my computer start playing_ Star Trek _.”_

“Technically, it’s _Voyager_ ,” she corrects him, because Pru can be just as pedantic as Red when she puts her mind to it.

_”I don’t have_ time _—”_

“Bullshit. SB’s been rescued, the Titans are taking a well-deserved rest, and even Batman seems to have a handle on Gotham’s current crop of crazy,” Pru says. “Take an hour or two to relax for once.”

_”But—”_

“Plus, I’ve locked you in. It’s not like you really have a choice here.”

Red sighs. _”One episode. That’s all.”_

“Whatever you say, Red.” Pru grins. She’s pretty sure sure can swing at least two, if she does it right. Red has a soft spot for Vulcans, and she plans to exploit that as much as possible when it comes to episode selection. For Red’s own good, of course.

* * *

Pru did a little research (took a weekend trip to NYC while Red was conveniently out of town and used his overpowered machines to snoop around in the Batcomputer's files) and learned that Lonnie's aforementioned lady friend is ridiculously talented when it comes to electronics, and possibly also computers and robotics. Also on Batman's radar ever since the Bat saved her and her brother from some thugs (thus the existence of a Batfile on her), but currently being fed the old song and dance of how she should keep out of trouble, stay out of his way, leave the hero-ing to the professionals (ha ha, like the Batman has any room to talk on that front).

In short, Harper Row sounds like Pru's kind of gal.

Of course, Pru _had_ intended to try and track down Cassandra Cain now that she's got her hooks in Spoiler, but, well. Pru's shaky on the details, but she's _fairly_ certain David Cain never actually named his daughter, and if the girl hasn't met any Bats yet (doesn't seem likely, there's no record of anyone fitting Black Bat's description in the Batcomputer database), she probably doesn't have a name. Which means Pru's normally adequate mastery of search engines is absolutely useless. (She has a back-up plan that should theoretically work, but it would mean finding at least one of Cassandra's parents first, and Pru is trying very, very hard to avoid contact with any and all League members for as long as possible.)

So, really, it's just as well that Lonnie brought up his friend. Gives Pru something to focus on when she's not busy tormenting Red or trying to pass her classes. Sure, Row had no connection to Red before the world went askew, but Pru's been thinking about that lately. Been thinking about the whole ridiculous mess she found herself in when she woke up in Prague all those months ago. There's only so much Pru can do to guide Red, mold him into what he was (what she needs). He's a Bat, after all, and that means she can't force him to do anything, just sort of nudge him in the right direction. And, when it comes down to it, Red wasn't the only one screwed over by the world restructuring or whatever the hell happened.

Which would be why she's here, now. In a boarded-up warehouse six blocks from the Gotham docks, recently purchased by the Noh-Jay Consortium. Staring down this little ragtag band she sought out and has now gathered together. 

Pru takes a deep breath.

Squares her shoulders.

And launches into her speech. "Ground rules, for those of you who don't know them. Rule one: No killing or maiming. Rule two: No one is disposable. Rule three: Don't tell people who you are—that means no telling your dad, or your kid brother, or even Batman. The Bat ever asks you who you are, you tell him to fuck himself. He's the goddamn detective, make him fucking detect if he really wants to know. Corollary to rule three: If someone _has_ to know who you are, only _you_ get to do the reveal. I know some of you already know each other outside this room—good for you. _Don't screw over your friends or allies._

"More rules to be added as I decide them. Next, introductions! Flying Fox, Spoiler, Moneyspider, new girl who's just going by New Girl until she decides on a name," Pru says, going around the room and pointing to each person as she names them. "And I'm Oracle, obviously. Now, how about I teach you kids how to fall?"

* * *

"Question."

"Hit me."

"Is it morally objectionable to orchestrate situations likely to lead to an individual experiencing a complete mental breakdown for the sake of character development?"

Pru's query is met by silence, and after several minutes pass, she shoves her laptop to the side and rolls over onto her stomach to get a better view of Tam. Tam who is currently staring at her with a look of abject horror, which seems a bit unfair. "What? I haven't _done_ anything yet. I'm just asking!"

"It's the fact that you have to ask at all that worries me," Tam says finally. " _Yes_ , of course it's morally objectionable! What the hell, Connie, in what world would something like that be even _remotely_ okay?!"

"Well," Pru starts to say, because she can think of several examples right off the top of her head. Though, now that she thinks about it, Pru is fairly certain it falls under some corollary of Godwin's Law if you try and use pretty much anything Ra's al Ghul's ever done to support your argument.

Still.

"Red should be more mature by now. Last time, he lost a bunch of people in a very short time frame and I was just thinking..." Pru tries to explain. No one would necessarily have to _actually_ die. Maybe just... disappear for six months to a year. (Though, god, who could she use? Red's not close enough to any of the Titans, he seems to be maintaining minimal communication with most of the Bat family, and Pru has yet to break the encryption on where the kid has his parents stashed away, if they're even still alive.)

"If that kind of thing was okay in the old timeline, maybe it's just as well things are different now," Tam says, giving Pru the most epic of bitchfaces. "Connie, look. Just because he was all messed up before doesn't mean it's a _bad_ thing that he's relatively well-adjusted now."

"The boy dresses up in a jumpsuit and _wings_ to fight crime," Pru points out. "Well-adjusted he is not."

"I did say _relatively_ ," Tam reminds her. "And, hey! I do the same thing, now."

Pru really can't think of anything to say to that. Especially since the existence of Flying Fox is mostly Pru's own fault.

Still, Tam's likely right about it not being okay to push Red over edge. Even several months after the fact, Red was still pretty pissed when he told Pru about Batman's idea of a totally awesome birthday present. So. Probably not the best idea to try.

* * *

They're on their way to this week's meeting (Tam behind the wheel, because even though Tam has this annoying habit of never pushing the speed limit, right now Pru can't concentrate enough to not drive them into a ditch), Pru staring down at her phone and the last messages sent.

`Red Robin?`

`...Tim?`

Sent four hours ago and Pru still hasn't received any sort of response.

"I'm sure everything's fine," Tam says. She refuses to meet Pru's eyes in the rearview mirror, and she isn't fooling anyone with her calm tone—Tam may not be as agitated as Pru, but it's clear that Pru's mood is contagious from the way the normally-cautious Tam takes a curve at a much sharper angle than usual. "Stop being such a worrywart."

"Fucking knew I should've injected him with a radioactive isotope after N.O.W.H.E.R.E.," Pru growls. Four hours since Pru sent her the last message, but more than twenty hours since Red Robin went completely radio silent. At this point, Pru thinks she's allowed to be a little concerned. (Fucking _told_ Red it was a bad idea to to go to Gotham.)

"We've been over this," Tam says patiently. "Just because something worked on _Star Trek_ doesn't mean it'll work in real life."

Tam's inability to recognize the finer things in life is tragic and Pru clearly needs to shanghai her into participating the next time Pru resorts to Directive 47. "Nanobots—nanites? Could probably use them to do some operant conditioning while I'm at it," Pru mutters to herself, already making plans.

She's in the middle of tapping out a note to herself on her phone (she's fairly certain she can get nanites from Arsenal, since Pru vaguely remembers Red Hood mentioning he does robotics now, last time she was "selling"—offloading, really—him more dirt on ancient evils) when the device chimes and a message pops up on screen. "Oh, bloody hell."

"You finally get a response from Red Robin?"

"Worse. It's his team of superbuddies—I think. Looks like they're using Red's phone to try and contact Batgirl, so they must've finally noticed he's missing," Pru explains, furiously tapping away.

"You hacked Red Robin's phone?!"

"What? No, don't be ridiculous. Moneyspider hacked it, I just had him set it up to send all outgoing messages to me."

" _Why?_ "

"I have my reasons." Pru frowns down at her phone, then lifts her head. Turns to Tam. Replaces her grimace with a smile. "Tam. Gorgeous."

Tam immediately becomes suspicious, which is reassuring. Pru would hate to think that Tam hasn't learned anything through her association with Pru. "What do you want?"

"How are your acting skills?"

* * *

Sometimes it's really quite handy that the Batman has all but banned metahumans from Gotham, Pru decides as she lets herself into the NJC warehouse. Like when you need to pull the wool over the eyes of a bunch of superpowered teens and convince them that someone is Batgirl when she really, really isn't. (It's also finally handy that Tam chose such a ridiculous identity for herself. Not that Pru's condoning the safety risks of including your actual name in your mask name, but the fact that Tam's outfit is somewhat bat-themed is useful.) Pru finishes securing the door and turns to face the room. The others are already there and waiting.

"No Flying Fox tonight?" This from Lonnie because he and Tam have been doing the weird bonding thing when they think Pru won't notice. (She always notices.)

Pru dropped Tam off at the rendezvous point (the old clock tower, chosen by "Batgirl" because Pru has a twisted sense of humor and Red's little Titan friends fail at coming up with sensible meeting places). Since the Titans are still at least a hundred miles away, it'll be some time before most of them show up (notwithstanding Kid Flash), but Pru gave Tam strict instructions on how to proceed when they do. The inklings of a plan that Pru had back when she first intercepted the Titans' communication have now coalesced into something that feels solid and real, and she's starting to think this could actually work.

"Nope," Pru says cheerfully, though the emotion is lost to the voice-scrambler in her helmet. "Change of plans tonight. So, gang—think you're ready for your first real superhero team-up?"

* * *

The plan that shaped itself in Pru’s head on the drive to the warehouse is ridiculous and far-fetched, hinging on assumptions that aren’t dependable, on information from the way the world _was_ , once. Old information and way too many late nights spent trawling through TV Tropes (all Red’s fault—there was a time when Pru had never even _heard_ of things like the Sorting Algorithm of Mortality).

In short, the plan she’s conceived has a snowball’s chance in hell of actually working.

Or, well.

It’s more like a Million-to-One Chance. (Thank god for that.)

_”They’re here. Tell me you have a plan,”_ Flying Fox demands over comms.

“Is Superboy with them?”

_”Tall, dark, and studly? Unf,_ yes _. Best part of this so far.”_

“Then, yeah. I have a plan.” Through the comm, Pru outlines what she wants Superboy to do, confident that Flying Fox will relay the information without letting on that she’s taking orders from someone else.

When Superboy expresses doubts over his ability to hear Red Robin’s unique heartbeat in a city of eight million people, Pru has Flying Fox remind him of the time he successfully singled out Wonder Girl in Time’s Square on New Year’s Eve. Suddenly, Superboy’s a lot more willing to at least try.

Pru crosses her fingers and hopes Tam isn’t letting the euphoria of apparent-omniscience go to her head.

* * *

_”Got that list of past hideouts and targets for you, FF.”_ Spoiler’s voice cuts across the comms. Pru sent her to break into Central and read reports, because the fucking GCPD computers are so ancient they don’t even have network capabilities. _”Sending it to your helmet now. O, I don’t know if it’s relevant, but according to the chatter I’m picking up, Joker kidnapped Bruce Wayne’s butler a few days ago.”_

Pru’s heart is suddenly in her throat and for a moment she forgets how to breathe. There’s no way the Joker could possibly—well. Actually. There’s every possibility the Joker could know who Batman is, since most Bats seem to think that no one will ever recognize a particular combination of distinctive jawline, height, and build. And the Joker did get into Red’s penthouse, somehow. The penthouse where Red wanders around sans-mask on a regular basis. Red who, if any of the Teen Titans were Gothamites, would have been recognized long ago.

_”Oh, that is so not cool,”_ Bluebird pipes up. Her tracker puts her at halfway between the warehouse and Todd’s little team of gingers, who showed up on Lonnie’s radar shortly after Pru sent out Spoiler. _”That dude makes the best brownies ever. Now we_ have _to find the Joker.”_

Well. Alright then. “Good to know you have your priorities straight,” Pru says dryly. Truth be told, she’s more than a little grateful for Bluebird’s interjection, since it serves to cover her own shock and distracts the others from what the significance of Wayne’s butler might be. Which may be nothing at all, when it comes down to it.

For now, Pru places that piece of information to the side. Until she knows more, it’s just a distraction.

* * *

When Superboy _still_ claims to not be able to find Red Robin in the city, Pru chooses to take it as a challenge, not a deterrent. There are numerous reasons Superboy might be falling down on his very important part of the plan. Pru ignores them all and instead focuses on narrative convenience. (That’s the thing about remembering everything from before the universe hiccuped—it gives Pru a different perspective than most people. And Pru, she’s _noticed_ peculiarities about the way the lives of Earth’s so-called heroes tend to unfold.) Acknowledges the fact that she can’t do anything about Superboy just not knowing Red as well as he used to. Instead turns her attention to things that _are_ under her control (theoretically, at least).

It all comes back to the fact that despite the insanely-powerful supercomputer built into Red’s suit and the top-of-the-line WayneTech comm Oracle provided him with, Red has been out of contact for nearly 24 hours now. Yes, there are plenty of good reasons why that could be (Pru pointedly tunes out Lonnie, who keeps listing the reasons under his breath as he watches his teammates through the monitors—for a future anarchist, Lonnie is surprisingly pessimistic), but. The last time Red went silent like this was when he stormed N.O.W.H.E.R.E.’s underground base. So.

The way Pru sees it, out of all of the many different explanations (problems), there’s only one that she has a chance of fixing. Narratively-speaking, it must be the right one (it _has_ to be).

Pru jabs Lonnie in the side to grab his attention, then sets him to track down as many maps of Gotham’s underground (sewers, subways, tunnels, catacombs) as he can.

* * *

Three minutes later, Pru remembers Spoiler’s earlier report. She has Lonnie drop what he’s doing in favor of cracking into the files of the Gotham chapter of the NSS (silently thanks Owens and his stupid hobbies that mean she at least knows where to look—bloody secretive underground organizations, _god_ ).

Narratives—it’s all about narratives, because even if the world _isn’t_ run by them, the Joker favors the dramatic, the theatric.

Lonnie sends off entry points and maps to Flying Fox and Bluebird for them to share with their respective allies, and Pru has a good feeling about this. Not a hunch, exactly. More like a sense of _rightness_. It works with what she knows, what she remembers. Her reasoning is convoluted enough she thinks even Red and the big, bad Bat might approve.

* * *

The third hole in the ground he sticks his head into, Superboy hears something familiar. A heartbeat, a voice, something. Enough that he and the rest of the Teen Titans charge on in, intent on finding their leader.

Flying Fox hangs back, per Oracle’s instructions. Gets in far enough that her comm can act as a relay, and Pru spends a few tense moments, waiting.

Red reappears as an active contact on Pru’s screen, and she takes just long enough to send him a message before calling all her people back to base.

> `Oracle: Don’t forget Joker’s Xanatos Gambit tends to be strong.`

* * *

Apparently, from what Pru wheedles out of Red later, after the whole ridiculous affair is over, Oracle’s reminder came too late. “So what you’re basically telling me is that your buddies showed up after the party was already over,” she says, one eye on the feed from Bluebird’s mask.

_”The Teen Titans and Red Hood’s team showed up just in time to keep us from killing each other under the influence of the gas, but the Joker still got away,”_ Red says. _”Batman said he’s probably dead, but—”_

“No body means that’s a stupid assumption to make.” Pru’s started reading the Gotham rogue files on Red’s computer, figures it’s a good idea to familiarize herself with them if she’s planning on making any sort of effort to keep Spoiler and the others in one piece. Which reminds her—Pru sends off a quick reminder to Bluebird to not head straight home after taking out a slew of thugs three times her size (sometimes Pru really wonders about Row’s sense of self-preservation).

_”Mm.”_ There’s a pause, and then Red sighs. _”Look, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room or not?”_

“Excuse me?”

_”The Titans were awfully surprised to find the Joker had captured Batgirl. They were apparently under the impression that she’d been helping them all night.”_

“And I should worry about this why?” Obviously Flying Fox’s subterfuge wasn’t going to hold up once the Teen Titans met the actual Batgirl, but there’s no way to connect the heroine who helped the Titans to Oracle. Pru’s in the clear here and Red is just being a paranoid Bat with no ground to stand on.

_”Superboy says the Batgirl who helped them was in communication with someone all night. Kept getting advice and intel from this mysterious third party.”_

Pru doesn’t swear under her breath because she’s a professional, but it’s a close thing. Sodding Superboy and his sodding superhearing. “Lots of people have partners when they work. It’s just sound tactics.”

_”And then there’s the girl who helped out Red Hood’s outlaw buddies.”_

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ugh, what the hell is wrong with the world that Hood thinks nothing of sharing information with Red? This sort of thing never would have happened before.

Red’s laugh is soft and low. _”I just wanted to say thank you, and I’m sorry I made you worry. It’s good to know someone’s got our backs, even if—”_ He breaks off, goes silent.

“Even if Batman’s an asshole a lot of the time and keeps forgetting he’s not the only one he hurts when he acts like a dick,” Pru offers quietly. She doesn’t know the details, but from what she’s picked up (Red’s not the only one who can tap into the Bat-gossip grapevine that pretty much begins and ends with Arsenal), Batman’s gone and managed to piss off all his Batkids again by acting like an idiot and not sharing when he should. Pru wouldn’t be surprised if she ends up introducing a new rule to Spoiler and the rest in the near future (Batman seems to have a talent when it comes to screwing over his family).

This time, Red’s laugh is definitely more bitter than anything else. _”We should really know better._ I _should know better, but. Sometimes it’s hard.”_

Pru gets that. She understands feeling betrayed, feeling like your trust has been broken into pieces and trod upon, ground down until it’s nothing so much as dust under the heel of the one person who should have been above all reproach. “Red,” she says, turning over thoughts in her head, pondering the nuances of causality. “Someone once told me that the most important thing about working with others is remembering that they’re people, too.”

_”And, what? I should just forgive and forget? Let Batman make nice because, hey, since_ he _thought the fact that the Joker knows who we all are wasn’t relevant, it should be good enough for the rest of us? That was never his call to make for anyone beyond himself!”_

“Well, to be fair. The same person who told me that also pointed out that Batman has a super-sketchy history of thinking he knows what’s best for everyone, so. You might let him sweat it out for a bit.” Actually, what Red did was tell Pru, in detail, about all the times Batman completely broke his trust, presumed to know what was best for everyone else, failed to take into account the fact that most humans have feelings. After he finished that, Red went on to reaffirm that he was just as determined as ever not to let Batman down, because, despite everything, Batman never stopped trusting _him_. “But it couldn’t hurt to let him know that you’re willing to listen, when he’s ready to apologize.”

_”Maybe.”_

“I mean, if you don’t, you know he’s going brood more than ever, and that shit can’t make for a healthy environment for the murderchild.”

* * *

...but, see, it _is_ all about narratives. The monomyth, the hero’s journey, is a thing for a reason (or so Connie’s English professor keeps insisting). Red had his Road of Trials with the Council of Spiders, he was _supposed_ to be done, was supposed to have a Return and Rebirth, but instead the entire world went through its own rebirth and he had to start all over again.

At the start of all this, Pru knew she wasn’t occupying the hero’s role. That belonged to Red Robin, to Spoiler, to Red Hood, to the many heroes already out there and the world doesn’t need another one. Pru’s own small part was supposed to end when she found Red and reestablished her place in the grand scheme of things. It was never supposed to go any further than that.

But then everything was wrong and Pru had to work with what she had and suddenly she wasn’t Prudence Wood, assassin, anymore. She was Oracle. And the thing is, it was supposed to be a _joke_ , claiming the name. A joke and a test, to see if Red recognized it. Only Pru didn’t think it all the way through, didn’t stop to consider that by calling herself Oracle, she herself was playing right into the hands of multiversal redundancy. That Oracle was never just a woman with her fingers in a crapload of pies, but also a lot of other things, too. Among them, a legacy.

And Pru wonders, sometimes. About that. Wonders if taking on a legacy name is enough to make someone a heroine. Wonders if, at the end of the day, it even really matters, if there’s any reason to worry about it. Because, really, the simple fact of the matter is that there’s a opening, a vacancy, a job that needs doing.

Why can’t Pru be the one who does it?

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to learn about all the headcanons I have for this AU (I have a lot of hcs for it, so many) or you just like my groove, I'm on tumblr over at themandylion.tumblr.com. Fair warning, I'm still learning the whole tumblr thing and I'm not the best at posting, but I'm a very active lurker. So. There you go! :D


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